


The Story of Us

by LRRH17



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Based on a Taylor Swift Song, F/M, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Post-TLJ
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-23 19:58:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19708351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LRRH17/pseuds/LRRH17
Summary: She's never heard silence quite this loud.





	1. Next Chapter

_So many things that I wish you knew;  
so many walls up I can’t break through._

_I’m dying to know – is it killing you like it’s killing me?_  
_I don’t know what to say since the twist of fate, when it all broke down._  
 _The story of us looks a lot like a tragedy now._  
\- Taylor Swift, “The Story of Us”

* * *

The bond does not die with Snoke.

It gets stronger.

Before, Ben’s presence had only been a quiet hum in the back of her mind, ever since their battle in the snow. That hum only grew in intensity when the bond chose to connect them fully, silencing her surroundings and making him the center of her galaxy. 

Now, he is nearly impossible to block out. Every day, Rey feels his rage pulsing on the edges of her thoughts. He slams his fists against the door that she has built to separate their minds, screaming his rage and pain at her betrayal. She can’t imagine how he performs his duties as Supreme Leader while he keeps up the constant barrage; she can barely hold the door shut, and her missions require less attention than the intrigue he faces in the First Order.

Still, she does her best to ignore his efforts, knowing that her silence is even worse to him than her disappointment. It makes him feel truly alone. If she shouts back or lashes out, it would give him the attention that he craves from her. Pretending that she does not care – even though it feels as if her heart is breaking – is better, she tells herself. Better for both of them. It’s the only hope they have of moving on.

Then one morning, she wakes to utter silence. 

It is not a peaceful, calm silence. It is a stifling, vibrating static. The absence of his rage is more unsettling than any intrusion he has made into her mind before. A wave of panic washes over her. Something must be wrong. What if he has been injured? What if Hux or another general has decided to take the name of Supreme Leader the same way Ben did?

_What if he’s dying?_

She shouldn’t care, but she does. She will _always_ care, no matter what she tells herself – or Ben.

Sitting up, Rey reaches out to him tentatively, barely brushing his mind with her own. That way, if it is a trick, she can pull away before he breaks through the door.

No answer.

She forces herself to go even closer, closing her eyes and envisioning walking towards the door. She rests her hand lightly on its knob. _Ben?_

His voice breaks when he replies, _Go away_. 

Rey frowns. Despite his efforts to conceal it, she can feel his pain seeping from under the door now that she is this close. It creeps into her consciousness like smoke. He is _sad_. Has she ever felt sadness in him?

Before she can doubt herself, she takes a deep breath, tugging the door open a crack. The light from her mind spills over into the darkness of his side, just barely illuminating his hunched form. He leans heavily against the barrier, his forehead pressed to the wall. His dark hair hangs over his face, covering his eyes, but she can feel his tears as if they are her own. 

_Ben_ , she whispers, slowly sinking to the floor. He flinches away from her, scrambling back a foot deeper into the darkness. 

_I said leave me **alone** , Rey._ The spark of anger behind those words flickers for a moment before it dies completely. He sighs deeply, making himself seem even smaller. _Just…go._

She settles against her side of the barrier, nudging the door open a centimeter more. _I’m not going anywhere._

He laughs aloud, a single, sharp sound that shatters the silence. _You already left._

_That’s not true,_ she protests, even though it is. 

_It is,_ he agrees, the agony in him so deep that she feels it like a physical blow to her chest. She gasps, trying to hold back her tears. _You left. Just like everyone else._

Images flash between them – Han, Leia, Luke…and Rey, shaking her head, backing away from his outstretched hand. Underneath them all lies the same word, hissed in a voice that sounds just like Snoke’s: _unwanted._

As soon as she catches that word, he rips the thoughts away from her, self-hatred making the shadows around him grow deeper. _Why are you here?_ he demands.

The answer seems foolish, now that she’s joined him in the place their minds meet. She’s been blocking him out for nearly two weeks, but the second his thoughts go quiet, she races to look for him. She sighs, deciding to just tell him the truth. Could she lie to him if she even tried? _I couldn’t hear you._

_Isn’t that what you want?_ he snarls, lifting his head. She flinches at the intensity in his eyes. _Or were you just redecorating in here?_

_Ben, I –_

**_Don’t._** _This – this separation you’re making – it doesn’t even bother you! It doesn’t –_ He breaks off abruptly, chest heaving. _It doesn’t kill you like it kills me. I can’t do this anymore, Rey. I’m too tired._

He _slams_ the connection shut, throwing her back with such vicious power that she is flung from her bed. Rey immediately reaches out to him again, desperate to fix whatever this is – desperate to tell him that it _does_ kill her, every day, more than he could possibly imagine – but she is met by a barricade far stronger than her own. No matter what she does, she cannot tear it down. 

Wrapping her arms around herself, she silently cries.


	2. The End

_I liked it better when you were on my side._  
_The battle’s in your hands now, but I would lay my armor down_  
 _if you said you’d rather love than fight._  
\- Taylor Swift, “The Story of Us”

* * *

Without her, he is empty.

It feels as if there is a gaping hole inside of him, somewhere close to where his heart used to be. With Snoke’s influence over him ending and his recent connection to her being blocked, this is the first time he has ever been truly alone in his mind. He’d thought that this would make everything _easier_ – that being himself would come as naturally as breathing.

It doesn’t.

He _misses_ her.

Gritting his teeth, he tries to focus on the First Order reports spread out before him. She is a weakness that, if left unchecked, will be his downfall. As always, he is allowing his emotions to cloud his judgement. How can he possibly miss her? She has only been a part of his life for five months, and they’ve been blocking each other out for nearly half of that, interchangeably taking charge of this twisted game of pretend-the-other-doesn’t-exist.

He doesn’t need her. She beat him, scarred him, left him for dead on a planet that was falling to pieces by her hand. Then, she’d brought herself to him – offering to help him escape from Snoke’s control _with her help_ – only to turn him down the moment he bared his soul to her. He would have given her _everything_. Why couldn’t she see that? He would not have turned to the light, surely, but he wasn’t asking her to turn to the dark. Couldn’t they just be something different? Something _better_ than all those who had come before them?

He slams his fist against his desk, his frustration with himself building. Why can’t he think of her without his thoughts spiraling into pain and loss? He had strengthened the barrier she created between their minds for this exact reason. 

Sighing, he rises, deciding to leave the reports for the morning. He’s no good to anyone – especially himself – if he isn’t fully rested, and fully aware of all those around him. 

He collapses into bed, shutting the lights with a wave of his hand, and wishing with every fiber of his being that he will not dream of her tonight.

* * *

He almost laughs when he opens his eyes to find her seated before him. Almost. 

“What’s so funny?” she asks quietly, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“The fact that I actually thought the galaxy would grant me my wish,” he replies wryly. “It’s never granted one before. Why should it start now?”

“What did you wish?”

“That I wouldn’t dream of you.”

She reaches for him, placing a hand on his cheek. Her thumb brushes along the line of his scar. “It’s not a dream, Ben.”

“That’s what you always say.” Closing his eyes, he leans into her touch. “Although, of all the horrors my mind could provide at night, I suppose you’re the least objectionable.”

“Ben,” she repeats, a little more forcefully, “I’m not a dream. I mean, we’re technically both sleeping, yes – but this is not a dream. It’s…one form of our bond, I guess. I found it in the sacred Jedi texts. I stole them from Luke.”

His eyes fly open. “You did _what?_ ”

She bites her lip, slight embarrassment rolling off of her. “I stole the Jedi texts from Luke.”

He grins for the first time in too long. “I would have _loved_ to see that. The old man had it coming, really, with – ” He breaks off abruptly, his brain finally catching up with her earlier words. _This is not a dream._

He leaps to his feet, breaking their contact. _Stupid, **stupid!**_ he hisses at himself. He should have noticed the difference between an imagined Rey and the real Rey, now standing, her brown eyes pleading. Every time he thinks he has control over this strange connection that binds them to each other, he is proven wrong. Worse than that, he is always vulnerable with her. Why does this keep happening to him?

“Why are you here?” he demands. “What did you _do_? How did you even get into my head?”

“I _told_ you,” she retorts, “I read about it in the sacred texts. If a bond is strong enough, it’s possible to overcome something blocking it – by entering sleep while focusing on the bond with your entire heart and soul.”

“So you invaded my mind, my privacy, took away my right to _choose_ if I even wanted to talk to you again – ”

“That’s not true! You left me no choice, Ben! I had to see you, but you wouldn’t let me in – ”

He shakes his head, holding up a hand and backing away from her when she tries to come closer. “Because I _don’t want you here._ ”

“That’s not true, either,” she whispers. “I know you don’t mean that.”

“As if you know what I want and don’t want. As if you _care_ about what I want and don’t want. If you did, you would’ve – ” This time, he is able to stop himself from saying too much. Still, he can feel the thought hang between them, unable to snatch it back from their shared headspace.

_You would’ve stayed with me._

She reaches for him again, but he turns away. When her hand rests lightly on his shoulder, he stiffens at the contact. Now that he knows that it’s truly her, it feels…different, somehow. Like he doesn’t deserve it. 

Ignoring his reaction, she continues to speak. “That’s why I did this, Ben. I _had_ to see you, to make you understand. The separation that I made – the same one you’re keeping between us now – it _did_ kill me. I hid it from you so that you would think I was just angry, or disappointed, not…not _sad_.” Her voice breaks, making him flinch. “You were our only hope. You were _my_ only hope. But you proved me wrong, and it _hurt_. You thought _you_ felt betrayed? I had finally given my trust to someone – you – and you let me down. It seemed like even the Force had lied to me, showing me your future like that and then tearing it away from us. 

“So I kept my mind closed off from yours, even though it felt like I was losing a part of myself. I didn’t know what to do. I still don’t. All I know is this: our lives are still intertwined, for whatever reason. We’ve proven to ourselves that we are better when we’re together. Maybe we can’t be on the same side yet, but that doesn’t mean that I want to fight you.” She tugs on his shoulder, and he allows her to turn him back, his eyes searching hers for any trace of a lie. He only finds truth. “It’s up to you now, Ben. Tear down the barrier between us. I’d rather be connected to you than feel like this any longer.”

He can only stare at her, lost for words. Could he do it? Could he stay in the dark if he selfishly allowed their bond to continue?

How long would it be before her light, warm and comforting, fanned the spark still burning somewhere deep inside of him?

“Rey,” he whispers, knowing his ever-present conflict is once again raging in his eyes. This time, he doesn’t care.

Smiling sadly, she whispers back, “Don’t be afraid. I feel it, too.” She releases his shoulder, bringing her hand back up to his cheek. “I’ll be on the other side of the door when you’re ready.” 

Raising herself onto her toes, she kisses his cheek, and he feels his heart stop beating for one moment. _So I do still have one,_ he thinks.

With one last look, she lets the connection fade.

* * *

He wakes in the morning to find a familiar, ancient book resting on his bedside table.

Alone in his room, he laughs.


End file.
